What Would You Do?

Studly Doright came through his surgery yesterday with flying colors. He’s quite proud of the fact that, according to the surgeon, his was quite easily the largest extrusion he’d ever seen. Studly is one competitive man.

Of course, as I drove him home from the hospital last evening I almost pushed him out the door of the car for his constant criticism of my driving:

“Why are you in this lane?”

“You’re going too slow.”

“Slow down” (this said immediately following the previous statement.)

“Don’t let him cut you off!”

“Why’d you take this route? Monroe is faster.”

I pointed out that I’d been successfully navigating for many years, and that I’ve driven many miles quite well without him.

“It’s a wonder,” he said.

What’s a wonder is that I didn’t withhold his pain meds last night. It’s good to be in control.

Peace, people.

Author: nananoyz

I'm a semi-retired crazy person with one husband and two cats.

10 thoughts on “What Would You Do?”

      1. I think I get more ticked off than nervous. As long as I’m following the rules and driving safely, I just think that not every decision I make deserves a comment. Like you, somehow I got to be this age, have had no accidents (that I’ve caused, anyway), or received a ticket, without his help.

        Liked by 1 person

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